Wednesday, August 31, 2016

As you already know, I love Ireland - so here is a selection of photos from the hundreds I have taken during my many visits to this beautiful and fascinating island. Today I'm looking at some examples of Ireland's history.

First is a tomb portal, dating from the Neolithic period. It is known as Poulnabrone and is situated in the middle of the stark landscape of the Burren in County Clare. The horizontal capstone is supported at a height of about 6 feet by 4 upright stones, In the 1980s an excavation in the tomb under the portal revealed the bodies of 16 adults and 6 children, who were buried there sometime between 3,800 and 3,600 BC.

This is Croagh Patrick, overlooking Clew Bay in County Mayo. It is considered to be Ireland's holiest mountain because tradition has it that St Patrick fasted at the top for 40 days and nights in 441 AD. Today it is a place of pilgrimage, and some people even make the long climb to the top barefoot. On the last Sunday in July a special pilgrimage takes place with over 25,000 people taking part in the Mass at the summit.

Glendalough Monastery is one of Ireland's most famous ruined monasteries. Founded in the 7th century, it lies in a beautiful valley in the Wicklow Mountains, south of Dublin. Glendalough means 'valley of the two lakes.' The photo shows a familiar sight in Ireland - a round tower. This one is about 30 metres (90 feet) high, and originally had 6 timber floors, connected by ladders. Towers like this were used for storage, and also as a place of refuge in times of attack.

Moving closer to the present day, this is a reconstruction of one of the 'famine ships' which took thousands of Irish people across the Atlantic to the USA or Canada following the disastrous failure of the potato crop in 1845. These ships were often referred to as 'coffin ships' because they were so crowded and disease-ridden that many people died during the Atlantic crossing. This ship is moored at New Ross in County Wexford, and costumed performers take visitors on guided tours.

This monument, near Clifden in County Galway, commemorates a different form of transport, namely the first non-stop trans-Atlantic flight in 1919. Captain John Alcock and Lieutenant Arthur Whitten-Brown took 16 hours to fly from St. John's in Newfoundland to the west coast of Ireland - where they unceremoniously pitched their bi-plane nose first into an Irish bog!

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Romance novels are not all about sex. Sure, many romances
have sex scenes, but plenty others don’t. Yet, it’s still possible to show
affection between characters. Intimate moments can be as simple as grasping a
hand, caressing a cheek or exchanging a look. Here’s one from my WIP:

They walked the rocky beach, waves
on their right, cliffs on their left and seagulls overhead. This time, the
salty briny smell combined with Simon’s scent and her lungs expanded, her
breathing slowed and she became hyper aware of him next to her. His legs made
longer strides than hers and after they’d gone a few feet, he shortened his to
better match hers.

She appreciated the consideration,
but it only made her more aware of his muscular thighs bunching next to her.
Their hands brushed as they walked and tingles shot up her arm. It was an
accident, wasn’t it? He stepped away slightly, as if to prevent it from
happening again, but a few strides later with the uneven ground, they moved
closer and his hand brushed hers again. This time, he didn’t move away and she
listened to his breath hitch at the contact.

Nervous laughter bubbled in her
chest. This was silly. They’d held hands before. Granted, he’d been covering
hers when they were hammering, but still. It wasn’t the first time their hands
had touched. So why was this so different? She remembered the sensations she’d
felt when he’d covered hers on the roof—warmth and roughness and safety. Okay,
maybe this wasn’t any different. She bumped her hand against his again, on
purpose this time, just to feel his skin against hers. His skin wasn’t smooth
like hers, and his texture, unique to him, fascinated her. A moment later, he
did the same.

Was that accidental too? She snuck
a glance at his profile. Although his hair blocked his face, she’d swear she
saw a ghost of a smile hovering, like they shared a private joke. Her belly
warmed and the air between their knuckles, where they almost touched, crackled
with electricity.

The next time their fingers
touched, she pressed hers against his and they walked to the curve of the shore
connected, yet not.

Many, but not all, of my books have sex scenes. And those
scenes fit within the context of the story. But sometimes, it is the scene that
shows true intimacy without the sex that conveys the most feeling.

Monday, August 29, 2016

Ana muses about the physics of best friend secondary characters.
Back in my teens, I wanted to be an astronomer. In college, I tried to major in physics but lacked adequate proficiency in calculus. I still devour scientific articles about scientific discoveries. Did you hear about the recent sighting of an earth-like planet in a galaxy far, far away?Yesterday, I free-associated the letter I with Isotopes. Isotopes are variations of atomic elements with the same number of protons but different numbers of neutrons in the nucleus. And because I am writing Act 1of my WIP and have introduced my main characters, I segued to secondary characters.

Secondary character friends serve a similar purpose. They interact regularly with the main character. They point out holes in the main character's reasoning, question his choices, and prod her into taking action.

The best friend is like Carbon-12, which makes up nearly all of the carbon on earth. Best friend characters are stalwart, dependable, always there to lend a hand or a shoulder. They are quick to counter the heroine's faulty reasoning about the hero.

Carbon-13 is much more rare. Marine researchers use this element to help determine which plants different sea creatures eat. It's like the mentor who offers insight and advice at critical moments in a story.

Then there's Carbon-14, the rare cosmically-generated radioactive isotope, whose half-life is used for dating fossils and bones millions of years old. In writing, the prescient herald announces something is about to happen, so get ready.

Saturday, August 27, 2016

By Amie DenmanIn the spring semester of my
senior in college, I had finished all the requirements for my major, so I had
the luxury of being able to choose any elective course I wanted. I chose a
delightful class from the drama department called “American Musical Theater.”
Our assignment every week was to read the libretto and listen to several
musicals. If a film version was available, we would gather and watch it so we
could analyze structure, theme, set design, staging, and context. Of course,
this would be easier now with the internet, but I finished college right before
the world wide web was a real thing.

For a serious double major like
me (English Literature and Political Science), analyzing musical theater was
like having ice cream instead of green beans for dinner. I’ve always been in
love with musicals. The eight-track player in my parents’ car played The Sound of Music, Oklahoma, The King and I,
and The Music Man over and over. I
still know every single word of those songs. And so do a whole lot of other
people. (Admit it, you know where the wind comes sweeping down the plain and
how many trombones led the big parade). It’s part of our cultural lexicon.Theater has the power to examine
the human experience and bring us together. In our group of stories for A Heartwarming Christmas, a local
production of The Nutcracker Ballet
brings residents of Christmas Town, Maine, together. Roz Denny Fox, Dana
Mentink, and I have each taken an aspect of theater—music and dance in their
novellas, and costume and set design in mine—and shown how people come together
and even fall in love.

Perhaps the holidays and theater
are alike. In both cases, we suspend our disbelief for a while, put on our
finery, and engage in the magic that is life.

This holiday season, warm your heart with 15 connected sweet,
clean & wholesome holiday romances set in Christmas Town from 15 Harlequin
Heartwarming authors who are USA Today, national bestselling, and award-winning
authors.

There are five connected books in A Heartwarming Holiday. That
means each set of three novellas shares characters and storylines! This
collection of PG-rated holiday romances are all set in Christmas Town, Maine, a
location introduced in the 2014 Harlequin Heartwarming releaseChristmas, Actually.

A Heartwarming Holidaywill bring you laughter, tears, and
happily-ever-afters.

Book 1:Once Upon a Holidayby Anna Adams, Anna J Stewart &
Melinda Curtis: Three former college roommates start a business to bring the
magic of the holidays to everyone in Christmas Town.

Book 5:Nutcracker Sweetheartsby Dana Mentink, Roz Denny Fox, &
Amie Denman: As the stage production of the Nutcracker unfolds in Christmas
Town, three couples find love with the help of a little holiday magic!

The opening paragraphs from Margaret’s book Her
Husband’s Christmas Bargain

It wasn’t! It was! It was Megan. Luigi Costanzo had overheard
a child telling Santa that all she wanted for Christmas was a daddy. It had
aroused his curiosity, even caused a faint stir somewhere within him, and he’d
watched her as she returned to her mother. She was a pretty little girl with
long blonde hair and big blue eyes, but it was the shock of seeing who her
parent was that caused him to do a double take.

Megan!

His Megan

Megan, whom he hadn’t seen
for almost four years.

What the hell?

Luigi looked from mother to
daughter and his eyes narrowed. Megan still had the same shoulder-length blonde
hair, the same slender figure; nothing about her had changed. She didn’t even
look any older. He swung on his heel, snapping his fingers at his nearest
employee. “Please follow that woman and report back to me with her address.”

“Yes, sir.”

If the young man was
surprised he didn’t show it. He spurted into immediate action. There was no
arguing with the new owner of Gerards. He’d had everyone on their toes ever
since he took over a few months ago.

“Sweetheart, what did you ask
for?” Megan looked down at her beloved daughter, who was skipping happily along
at her side. There hadn’t really been time to visit Santa’s grotto but
Charlotte had pleaded so eloquently that Megan couldn’t find it in her heart to
refuse. There was always another train, even if it meant travelling home at the
height of the rush hour.

“For a daddy.”

Megan hid her surprise,
smiling indulgently instead. “I don’t think Santa supplies daddies. You were
supposed to ask for a toy.” Her heart felt heavy as she spoke. Charlotte was
right, she did need a father, and if Luigi had been different…

Friday, August 26, 2016

The opening paragraphs from Margaret’s book
Her Husband’s Christmas Bargain

It wasn’t! It was!
It was Megan. Luigi Costanzo had
overheard a child telling Santa that all she wanted for Christmas was a daddy.
It had aroused his curiosity, even caused a faint stir somewhere within him,
and he’d watched her as she returned to her mother. She was a pretty little
girl with long blonde hair and big blue eyes, but it was the shock of seeing
who her parent was that caused him to do a double take.

Megan!

His Megan

Megan, whom he
hadn’t seen for almost four years.

What the hell?

Luigi looked from
mother to daughter and his eyes narrowed. Megan still had the same
shoulder-length blonde hair, the same slender figure; nothing about her had
changed. She didn’t even look any older. He swung on his heel, snapping his
fingers at his nearest employee. “Please follow that woman and report back to
me with her address.”

“Yes, sir.”

If the young man was
surprised he didn’t show it. He spurted into immediate action. There was no
arguing with the new owner of Gerards. He’d had everyone on their toes ever
since he took over a few months ago.

“Sweetheart, what
did you ask for?” Megan looked down at her beloved daughter, who was skipping
happily along at her side. There hadn’t really been time to visit Santa’s
grotto but Charlotte had pleaded so eloquently that Megan couldn’t find it in
her heart to refuse. There was always another train, even if it meant
travelling home at the height of the rush hour.

“For a daddy.”

Megan hid her
surprise, smiling indulgently instead. “I don’t think Santa supplies daddies.
You were supposed to ask for a toy.” Her heart felt heavy as she spoke.
Charlotte was right, she did need a father, and if Luigi had been different…

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Most (all?) romance publishers insist that a romance must have a happy ending. Many romance readers read this genre to be entertained and also as a kind of escapism, knowing that all will end happily for the main characters even though, sadly, this may not happen in ‘real’ life.

It’s interesting to note that romance in the ‘grand tradition’, like Tristan and Isolde, Romeo & Juliet, Wuthering Heights, Gone With the Wind, Love Story, didn’t have happy endings. It’s the tragedy in these stories which make them memorable.

However, women (and yes, it is mainly women) pick up a paperback or download a romance e-book, and expect it to have a happy ending.
But is a happy ending the same as a ‘happy ever after’ ending?

Happy-ever-after conjures up an image of the hero and heroine living on Cloud Nine for the rest of their lives, with a perfect marriage, a perfect house and perfect children. I don’t think romance readers necessarily want or visualise this.
Romance authors don’t write ‘fairy-tales’. They don’t wave a magic wand so that Cinderella and Prince Charming, after just one evening at a Palace Ball, are reunited and live ‘happily-ever-after’. I never did hold out much hope for that couple’s future together anyway!

Instead, readers of romance want the hero and heroine to work through their problems and conflicts and, in the process learn more about themselves and about each other. They want a happy ending i.e. a convincing and satisfying resolution of all those problems, because they feel the hero and heroine deserve it.

Maybe the romance author's job is to bring the hero and heroine to a place where the potential for happiness is restored. This is the happy ending.
They are on their way to creating a life together in which their new understanding of each other will help them resolve future problems. They’re not going to live ‘happily-ever-after’ (i.e. have perfect, easy lives from now on), but, at the ‘happy ending’ of the story, they are better equipped to develop a lasting and mutually satisfying relationship because of the struggles they've won and the life lessons they've learned.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Hannah is the heroine of my newest manuscript. It’s an
as-yet untitled contemporary romance with a little bit of an older hero. Well,
older if you consider late thirties/early forties “older.” He walks with a limp
as a result of a car accident that killed his wife seven years ago, is the
father of a teenaged girl, and has greying hair at the temples. And he has a
secret he’s unwilling to share with Hannah.

Hannah is in her late twenties, lives with her grandmother,
has a recovering drug addict for a brother and is working toward a promotion at
her marketing firm. She’s not sure she wants to get involved with the dad of a
teen, or with someone who is older than she is by several years, but there’s
something about him that attracts her. And when her grandmother is a little too
enabling of her brother, it’s Dan to the rescue.

Or so she thinks.

Turns out, Dan’s firm is investigating her client and
indirectly causes her to lose her job. And Dan’s secret? Well, let’s just say
that he and Hannah’s brother are not so different, albeit for very different
reasons.

When the secrets are revealed, the two of them are in for
some trouble.

But it’s a romance, so you know you’ll get the “happily ever
after.” It’s the getting to that point, though, where the fun comes in.

I’m still editing and revising and increasing the tension,
but I’m hoping to start pitching it soon. So we’ll see what happens. In the
meantime, here’s an excerpt:

He blinked. When she returned to
his side and hooked her arm through his free one, he blinked again. She’d
accepted his explanation. Was it really that easy? Maybe he should tell her how
much he was attracted to her. Maybe it wouldn’t sound so crazy.“What are we looking at?” She
whispered out of the side of her mouth, pursing her lips together and giving
him an insane urge to kiss them.“What?”“I assumed since we’re just
standing here that you must be looking at something, and I wanted to join in
the fun. Or did you not realize we weren’t moving?”Her nostrils flared and she bit
her lip, and Dan realized she was trying not to laugh. Now he really wanted to
kiss her. Before he could act on it, his stomach growled.“Was that yours or mine?” She
looked over at him, eyebrow raised.His lips twitched. His breath
hitched. He couldn’t keep his laugh to himself any longer. It bubbled in his
chest and he let it out as he shook his head. “Okay, while I am older than you,
I’m not old enough to be senile. Yet. So yes, I did know we weren’t moving. But
thanks for that. And yes, that was my stomach growling, because I’m hungry.
Except I think I need to put eating on hold for a moment, because what I need,
more than anything else right now, what I’ve needed all night long actually, is
to kiss you.”He turned toward her, reached his
hand behind her neck and drew her close to him. This is what he’d been waiting
for. Tilting his head, he angled his mouth and softly touched her lips. A groan
started in the back of his throat. Her lips were even more delicious than he’d imagined.
They were sweet and soft and for the moment, his. He deepened the kiss and felt
her arms wrap themselves around his waist. Good, because he had no intention of
stopping anytime soon. Her body fit perfectly against his and he pulled her
closer, wishing they could blend into one. She sighed and he slipped his tongue
inside her mouth. It was like honey, and he couldn’t breathe. Her fingers were swirling, drawing
lines of fire along his back. Shaking, he pulled away and rested his forehead
against hers. Her pupils were huge, like his he suspected, and her breathing
was quick. Her hands hadn’t stopped moving and well, he wanted her to move them
lower. But they were in the middle of the street and he wasn’t an
exhibitionist. So he pulled farther away, took her hand, and led her toward the
restaurant.“Wait,” she cried as he limped as
fast as he could to Isabella’s.“What?”“What about what I need?”Before he could ask what she
meant, she grabbed his head and pulled it down to her. She kissed him, hard,
and pulled away.“I wasn’t finished,” she said.